Money Bought Love
by NonaRose
Summary: Regina Mills scams men for a living. Robin Locksley gets hired to chase after people like her. What happens when she, a cunning, venom-spitting, money-obssessed, surly woman, is his next target? Would they be able to tolerate one another the entire trip back to the destination he was told to bring her to, or would they rip each other apart? OutlawQueen Modern-AU
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I know I have about a gazillion other stories I need to update but please bear with me, I'm busy and I'm recovering from an awful writer's block. I'll get to my other fics but in the meantime, I brought you something else to enjoy. It's an idea that came to me out of nowhere and I thought I'd give it a go, see if it'll help me write again. So far so good, I hope y'all enjoy it though.

 **Disclaimer:** Unfortunately, I do not own Once Upon a Time or any of the characters known in the fandom. If I did, things would've been different.

 **A/N2:** Ah, yes, please forgive my mistakes, too. I wrote this (and finished it) while being half asleep. Kindly point them out, I'd appreciate that!

* * *

Money made the world go round, she would know.

She was loaded, covered from head to toe with silver, gold, and diamonds. Tiffany rings, Bulgari bracelets, Cartier earrings. Givenchy clutch stacked with Benjamins. Louboutin pumps cladding her feet, and a Versace dress — a tight-fitting, multi-stitched, ribbed, black Versace dress, to be precise, picked specially for tonight. Picked for the sole purpose of seducing rich men and leaving with one. As she'd done for years.

Move to a new place. Change identities. Meet a guy. Get close. Take him to bed. Fake interest. Scam him. Leave. And repeat.

It was an easy job and the outcome blew her mind every time. She was in her late-twenties and a millionaire; what more could she ask for? All she had to do was feign interest, date them for a little while, get everything a woman could ever ask for, then leave. Most times, flirting and fucking did the job, sometimes they never made it past unzipping her dress before they were out like a light, and she still ended up with the results she came for.

It all started as a dare. A friend challenged her to a one-night-stand and she went through with it. She took a random man from the bar to bed, and on the way out the next morning, she found his credit card laying on the table. A few kisses on the neck and a husked question in his ear was all it took to get a pin number out of him. And the rest was history.

A history that kept on repeating itself, differently every time.

Another bar. That's where she found herself tonight, again.

 _The Dead Rabbit Grocery & Grog_.

Neither the exterior nor the interior appealed to her, nevertheless, she walked in and gave her surroundings a quick glance around. Beggars can't be choosers. She wasted a whole week in the city with no results. No one caught her attention, no one was worthy of it. They were either well-off but old and wrinkly, or young and hot without an extra dime to spare. The imperfect mixture…until she saw _him_.

Him with his athletic figure, clothed in a well tailored, three-piece, midnight blue suit. Him with his perfect, preppy, medium brown, short hair. Him and his blue eyes, calm yet fierce…and fixed on her.

He was watching her as she watched him, one corner of his mouth tipped upward in a smirk. He got up, standing tall at five-foot-nine — give or take, and walked toward her, and she felt that familiar heat pool between her thighs, a pressure coiling in the pit of her stomach. She averted her eyes, looking away from him and focused on the martini in front of her instead, swirling the tip of her index along the brim.

She was interested. _Oh_ , so very interested, but what was Regina Mills if she didn't play hard to get at first?

"Can I buy you a drink?"

She heard from behind her, and from the corner of her eyes she could tell it was him, and he was a Brit, she mused. She'd been with Americans before, a handful of foreigners, too; Italians, Frenchmen, a couple of Spaniards, but never an Englishman. She felt him standing beside her, and when she glanced over, she caught his eyes gazing over her. _Christ_. He looked ten times better up-close and smelled divine. His cologne filled her nostrils, carrying a musky scent with a little hint of nature, not in any way unpleasant.

"I'm good," she declined, gesturing over at her barely touched drink.

From experience, she expected an argument to flare, for him to be persistent and stubbornly insist on buying her a drink. After all, almost every man who'd ever offered to buy her one before, did, and those didn't, they weren't the nicest over her rejection. But he caught her completely off guard when he laughed. She glanced back and watched him nod, wearing a genuine smile on his face.

"Very well, lovely," he smiled, baring his dimples. "I'll let you enjoy the rest of your evening then."

"That's it?" Regina scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. "You're giving up after just _one_ try?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You aren't even going to attempt to ask again?

"I—"

"You know what?" she interrupted. "Save it. I won't be saying yes even if you did, I'm not into quitters."

That made him laugh, a sweet, lighthearted chuckle that had her weak at the knees.

What was happening to her? Was it because she hadn't been laid in a while? Two weeks weren't even that long! _Get a grip on yourself, Regina._

"I didn't ask you again because I assumed it would be rude of me to do so," he asserted. "I was taught better than to pressure a woman into agreeing to something she's against. But I'll happily buy you another glass of martini—" he waved at the untouched glass in front of her. "Or whatever else you might fancy."

She misjudged him. She completely misjudged him. That smug smile that graced his face earlier on gave him away as a jerk, a man who just wouldn't take _no_ for an answer, but he was the complete opposite of that, and she felt her face flush out of embarrassment.

Regina cleared her throat and straightened up on her stool, she reached for her drink and downed it in one go, needing the kick of confidence she knew it would give her — the confidence she always had and lost in the thought of him. _Dammit_.

He might not even be rich, she mentally reasoned with herself, and as though he read her mind, as a proof, he reached forward and exposed his watch in the process. A Rolex.

Hot _and_ filthy rich. Well. She finally found her perfect match.

"Fine," she darted her tongue out, wetting her lips before glancing up at him. "I'll have another dry martini."

* * *

Two dry martinis and a handful of shots later, Regina found herself in his room. Drunk, naked, and horny, and he was equally as wasted as her, and judging by his erection, equally as horny, too.

She removed her last garment, her damp underwear, and flung it in his direction, grinning widely as he caught it with his hand and brought it to his nose, giving it a long sniff before humming in appreciation. He wasn't the first to do that, he certainly wouldn't be the last, but just like every time it happened, it aroused her.

"Are you just going to stand there, ogling me and sniffing my panties or—" Regina laid sprawled over the bed with her legs parted invitingly for him, exposing her wet center. Two weeks were too long for a woman used to having sex almost everyday, the slightest touches from him had her dripping. "Would you rather have the real thing instead?" she purred, tilting her head to the side to glance over at him, her lips curling into a sly smile.

He didn't waste another second, settling between her legs, pressing his lips to the inside of her thighs, kissing and nipping, occasionally grazing his teeth over her delicate skin, faintly marking her as if she was his. She was no ones, though. She wasn't a prize to be possessed, she belonged to no man. But her attempt to clear it up died at the tip of her tongue when his flicked over her clit, erupting a harsh gasp out of her. She wasn't prepared for the direct contact over her nub but he didn't seem to care, continuing with his stimulation. Her hands flew to his head, her fingers threaded in his hair and she tugged him closer. The pleasure was intense — and she'd blame it on not sleeping around for a little while rather than praise him and his talented tongue, and boost his ego, but despite being overwhelmed by it, she couldn't bring herself to push him away and give herself a moment to adjust.

He lapped at her, swiped his tongue in-between her slick nether lips and sucked. He devoured her as though he'd been dying of hunger and she, laying spread over the mattress, was his feast.

"I need…" she whimpered, her manicured nails dragging along his scalp. She needed more, she needed to come already, and he didn't disappoint, pressing two fingers into her and curving them as he thrusted.

Unlike most of the men she'd been with, mindlessly fingering her for their twisted fantasies and pleasure rather than the other way around, he seemed more experienced. His fingers instantly curled and began their search for that sweet spot inside her, and she didn't have to guide him, he found it on his own. Her hips bucked and she mewled out in pleasure, and he slipped an arm across her, pinning her down, and she could feel him smiling smugly against her. The bastard.

With him pleasuring her the way he did; firmly sucking at her clit, swirling and flicking his tongue over it, and his fingers roughly plunging into her, angled to rub against her g-spot with every thrust, she was rapidly approaching her orgasm. She was close, too close…almost there, but then he pulled away, withdrawing his digits and leaving her frustrated — but not for long.

He flipped her over with one swift move, lowered himself on top of her then smacked her thighs apart and rested one hand over her hip to hold her in place, and with the other, he lined himself against her. She felt him teasing her, dragging the tip between her lips, gathering her arousal.

"Just fuck me already," she groused, and he chuckled above her, his lips ghosting over her neck ever-so-lightly.

"Eager, are we, lovely?" he ridiculed, and before she was given the chance to bite back at his remark, he entered her.

She hissed at the invasion, her fingers curling into the bedsheets. He wasn't the biggest she ever had in her life, but he was the biggest she'd had in a very, very long time and he blew her mind, rubbing her in all the right places. _Gods_. She hoped he'd fall into her trap — she could get used to this for a little longer.

* * *

She woke up feeling groggy, sore between the legs, covered in love bites, and with a terrible hangover. She woke up to a mistake.

Being who she was and doing what she did, Regina never fell asleep next to her victims on the first night, most certainly not after consuming the large amount of alcohol she had the evening before. That rule was set to help her work faster and better, and while she lived by the phrase _Rules are meant to be broken_ , that was one rule she knew she shouldn't have.

She roused handcuffed to the headboard, both hands bound over her head, and she tugged. Once. Twice. Thrice.

"Unless you know how to pick a lock or have some tricks up your sleeves, I _doubt_ you'd be freeing yourself anytime soon."

Regina lifted her gaze up and met two pools of blue staring right back at her. She snarled, "What do you think you're doing?"

"Making a living," he answered simply, and her brows raised to her hairline in confusion. Making a living? By what? Handcuffing her to a bed, nude and all?

She frowned, giving the handcuffs another tug in a vain attempt to free herself. "Release me."

"I'm sorry," he plopped down on the edge of the bed and pulled his boxers up, then turned around and flashed her a wide, cheeky grin. "I'm afraid I can't do that."

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "And why not? Are you a cop or something? And even if you were, it's not like you have the right to just do this," she tugged at the handcuffs again.

"I'm not a cop," he assured, getting up to put the rest of his clothes on whilst she laid sprawled in all her naked glory in front of him. And there she thought he was a gentleman; definitely anything _but_ a gentleman is what he was. "But I'd say my job is somewhat similar to a cop's job, minus the badge and the uniform, that is…and the cool car…" he added in a murmur, turning around to face her and goodness, she wanted nothing more than to slap that cocky smile off his face. "But I get paid twice as much, if not _three_ times more."

"I don't care about that nor do I find it amusing," she rolled her eyes again.

"But I think you should care." He neared her, and the closer he got, the wider his smile became. " _Betty_ , or is it Nellie…or was it Eva?"

Her eyes bulged and she gulped the lump that formed in her throat. Those were the names she used in the past, a few of her many alias.

"Who are you?"

"I'm glad you asked," he retorted, extending a hand out for a shake before withdrawing it with a laugh. "Sorry, I forgot that you can't— oh! Yes, who I am. I'm Robin Locksley, I'm someone hired by two of the men you scammed, lovely. Jefferson and Keith, I believe they're called, and they promised me a hefty amount of cash in exchange of finding you and bringing you to them, which is exactly what I'm going to do."

Well, shit.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Sadly, due to life being a bitch, my updates won't be as frequent as I hoped they'd be. I'll be alternating between the stories, updating whichever I have the strongest muse for. I wanna thank whoever reads them for being so patient with me, really, thank you. I hope you enjoy this chapter, it's not long as I hoped it'd be, but it's something and please ignore my mistakes (kindly point them out, that'll be lovely).

 **Disclaimer:** Unfortunately, I do not own Once Upon a Time or any of the characters known in the fandom. If I did, things would've been different and Robin would have still been alive. Yes, I'm still bitter of it, will always be, too.

 **A/N2:** Thank you to everyone that reviewed, favorited and followed.

 **Guest:** I will! Thank you for taking the time to read them and reviewing, too. I really appreciate it!

 **FraiseDandelion:** I'll have you know I fangirled at your review.

* * *

One client called her Nellie Givens, another insisted her name was Eva Zambrano, and while they clashed over that, they both agreed that the brunette in the picture was the same woman that deceived them.

She was striking. No wonder they were too dumb and blind to notice the signs of her being nothing more than a gold digger — why else would a woman walk into a jewelry store, request the most expensive piece, and then ask to buy it? And they were completely out of her league, too. She was gorgeous, too stunning for either of those fools to date for real.

The first fool, Jefferson Hatter, resembled a caveman with his untamed, long, brown hair, and though he seemed sweet, he was also naïve and as mad as a March's hare. Robin didn't need to spend more than an hour with him to figure that out.

The second fool, Keith Knott, dressed awfully — and appearances meant a great deal to women, that much Robin knew, especially women like Nellie or Eva. He was also overweening, and he reeked, as though he hasn't stepped into the shower for months. Judging by his greasy, unruly hair, and loose-fitting clothing of choice, though, he probably hasn't.

Nevertheless, Robin put his judgmental thoughts aside and took on the job when they offered him the green stuff. Fifty grand in cash, a hundred and fifty more when it's all done. It was a great deal; the fools offered to pay him twice as much for a single case than he did annually. _Fools_.

* * *

Given by the fact that they knew almost nothing about her, not even her given name, Robin only had that single picture they gave him to go by, and his intelligence and connections to rely on. Tracking her down wouldn't be easy, he knew that when he agreed to find her, but it wouldn't be impossible. Not for him, at least. He always enjoyed a good challenge, anyways.

Though, on the contrary, it wasn't challenging at all. It wasn't his intelligence nor his connections that helped bring him to New York where he found the brunette beauty, poised and elegant, shopping for dresses down 5th Avenue — it was a complete coincidence. _Fate_ , if he believed in it. And she was a vision, the picture didn't do her justice.

He stalked her— no, he _investigated_ her. He wasn't a lovestruck teenager following his crush around, he was doing his job gathering as much information as he could about her. However, if he had to be somewhat honest, researching wasn't the only reason he kept a close eye on her. She interested him.

Of all the stories Fool One and Fool Two told him about her, she seemed to be the complete opposite of the snob they claimed she was. Yes. She shopped at the most high-profile stores in New York. Jimmy Choo, Prada, Burberry, Armani, Versace. But she carried her own bags, and instead of rolling her eyes and walking past people with her shoulders straight and her head held high as though she was a Queen amongst peasants, she was all smiles. And she had a soft spot for children, too, he noticed when she stood waving at an infant while waiting on her coffee order. She didn't have a chauffeur picking her up in a luxurious car, either, she hailed cabs and got in them, as simple as that.

Nellie Givens…or Eva Zambrano, whatever her name was, didn't appear to be anything like the woman that was described to him. But then again, gold diggers were great actors.

He followed her the first night she walked into a bar. The second, third, and fourth, too, and sat at the very corner every time, discreetly observing her and her every move. She always walked out empty-handed, slightly tipsy and frustrated, though. And by the fifth time, he tried out his luck, and after downing a few drinks with her, he took her to bed.

She was unreal. Feisty and alluring, and oh, so _breathtaking_. The way she writhed and thrashed beneath him, the way she moved and twisted above him, how she arched and scratched down his bare chest — and Gods, did she scratch him hard, leaving behind temporary marks on his skin. For a moment, he almost forgot that it was meant to be a one time thing to lure her into his trap. _Almost_.

* * *

"So, we either do this the easy way or the hard way. Personally, I'd suggest the easy way, it'll save us both the trouble, ultimately, though, the choice is yours."

Regina scoffed, tugging at the handcuffs once more to no avail.

"It won't work—"

"Will you shut up for one second?" she cut him off and glared. "You've been talking for just _five_ minutes and I already can't stand you — or that posh accent of yours!" she snapped.

"My, my, kitty's got claws," Robin taunted with a chuckle. "Though I shouldn't be surprised, after all, you did quite a number on my chest last night."

"Asshole," she murmured under her breath.

"Bitch," he retorted with a shrug, taking her by surprise. "Now, easy way or hard way?"

She ignored him and looked away, crossing her legs the best she could in the position she was in.

"Nellie?"

She rolled her eyes.

"Eva?"

She snorted a quiet chuckle.

"Betty?"

She ignored him, again.

"Well then, it's the hard way, I suppose."

"Wait, no—"

"Oh, it speaks," he acknowledged sarcastically.

"If I choose the… _easy_ way, would you remove the handcuffs? Not just unlock them from the bed, but remove them completely?"

"Will you attempt to escape?"

She chewed on her bottom lip then shook her head. "No."

"Promise?"

"Seriously?" she exclaimed in annoyance, then huffed when he nodded his head. "Fine, yes, I promise."

For someone who was made to appear so ruthless and callous, as though she was the devil in disguise, this hotheaded brunette was too easy to handle. At least, that's what Robin thought before she tackled him off the bed the instant she was freed and scrabbled to reach for the door.

He gripped her, though, tugging her down by the ankle when she stood and tripped her, receiving a yelp in return. "That was _not_ the easy way."

"My nose!" she bellowed.

"Oh calm down, I'm sure it's not broken— holy shit!" he shouted at the sight of her bloodied face when he turned her around. "Oh shit, oh shit, I'm so sorry."

"You fucking asshole!" she cried out, kicking her feet at him out of anger.

"I said I'm sorry—"

"And that's supposed to fix my nose?"

"That's not—I mean that—I didn't mean to—I'm sorry," he stammered.

"Keep it," she growled.

* * *

It wasn't broken, he managed to inspect it whenever she didn't struggle against him and swat his _filthy_ hand away. He apologized numerous times. It was a complete accident and she started it, anyways, she was the one who tackled him out of nowhere. But she only responded by rolling her eyes and occasionally flipping him off. _Very mature_.

"I mean, did you even think twice before doing that?" he derided, alternating his attention between the road ahead of him and her. "Were you really just going to bolt out of there butt naked?

She moved the ice pack away from her face and glared at him. "If it meant getting away from you, then yes," she complained, then tilted her head back and pressed the ice pack to her nose again.

"I can't be _that_ terrible," he feigned offense at her remark. "You certainly didn't seem like you could get enough of me just the other night."

"Wipe that stupid smirk off your face before I do it for you," she bit threateningly, slumping back with a huff, and he laughed. "I can't believe I'm going to be spending _days_ on the road with you. Just kill me and put me out of my misery."

"You're no good to me dead, lovely."

"How much did they even offer you?"

"Two hundred grand," he replied proudly.

"I'll double it," she offered.

He listened, he was interested — after all, the more the merrier. But he wasn't interested enough to accept, yet. "Triple it."

"What?"

"You heard me. Triple it or we don't have a deal."

"I'm not paying you triple that for my own freedom," she quibbled.

He huffed. "Five hundred, then."

"Four hundred," she argued.

"Four-fifty, and I'm not lowering the price."

She opened her mouth to speak when his phone began ringing, and thank the Gods for that, he wasn't sure he could handle another minute of her nagging and the pathetic attempt of the debate they were having. He silenced her by holding up a finger, which, judging by the scowl she wore, she didn't appreciate, then answered, putting it on speaker.

"Hello?"

 _"_ _Robbie!"_

Oh, Christ. Terrible timing.

He sighed, "Mother."

Regina snorted beside him and shifted to face him rather than stare outside of the window.

 _"_ _Oh, sweetheart. How are you? How have you been? It's been ages! Why haven't you answered any of my calls?"_

"Yes, _Robbie_ , why haven't you? Tsk, tsk," Regina mocked.

 _"_ _Who's that?"_

"Nobo—" the word died at the tip of his tongue at the sight of his hostage's growing smile. Two can play this game. "Actually, that's Trina."

Regina's brows creased. "Trina?"

 _"_ _Trina? Oh, my Lord! Give her the phone, Robbie, let me talk to my daughter-in-law—"_

"Daughter-in-law?" Regina hissed.

 _"—_ _I almost believed she didn't exist."_

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that, mom. She exists, and she's a handful, too."

 _"_ _Give her the phone. Oh goodness, I can't believe this — I told you my daughter-in-law is real, Esther!"_

"I'm not talking to her," Regina scoffed, but he gave her little to no chance of arguing and shoved the phone in her hand, then guided it up to her ear, all the while smirking.

"Go on, Tri. Say hello to my mom, she'd been dying to talk to you," he sniggered.

Regina covered the speaker and grouched, "I will kill you."

 _"_ _Hello? Robbie? Trina?"_

She groaned, frustratedly rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Mrs. Locksley," she drawled.

 _"_ _Oh, darling. There's no need for formalities, we're a family. Call me mom!"_

She winced, and Robin's laugh only grew louder at the awkward position he put her in.

 _Good_.

He'd hoped that maybe a few torturous minutes of talking to his mother might convince her to pay the triple that he asked for. Instead, much to his dismay, the whole thing backfired. He should've ended the call the minute he answered it.

 _"_ _You two should definitely visit."_

"Mom, we talked about this before," Robin reminded with a heavy sigh.

 _"_ _I know…"_

His mother's voice wavered, she paused for a moment, then came her dramatic sigh before she continued.

 _"_ _It's just…I've been really lonely here, all on my own, no one to talk to but Esther—"_

He rolled his eyes. There she goes again, guilt-tripping him. There was a reason why he never answered her calls, and this was it. He could never say _no_ to her.

 _"—_ _and I haven't seen you since last Christmas, Robbie, it's been almost a year. I miss you. Come over, bring your lovely wife with you and let me meet her. You know I've been eager to."_

"Robin, no," Regina admonished quietly.

 _"_ _God knows how many years I've got left on this earth, if not months, even."_

That did it. His mother got her way, again. He swerved and slammed Regina into the door at the force it in process, and out of anger, she pushed herself upright and slapped his arm, muttering curses under her breath.

"Fine," he gave in. "We're coming in an hour, but we're not staying for lon—"

 _"_ _Esther! Oh, Esther! Robbie's coming home!"_

And then the line went dead.

"I can't believe you just fucking did that," Regina chided, furiously slapping at his arm before huffing childishly and crossing her arms over her chest. Her face scrunched up in irritation, but he found it absolutely adorable…and absolutely hard to keep a straight face at it.

"I'll make you a deal," he began. "Pretend you're my wife just for a day, give me the four hundred, and I'll let you go."

"And I'm supposed to believe you?"

"I'm a man with honor—" she interrupted him with a snort, but he continued with an eye roll. "As I was saying, I'm a man with honor, and I'm a man of my word. I give you my word, Betty…Eva or Nellie."

"Promise?" she mockingly quoted him from earlier on before she attempt to escape, and he laughed.

"Promise."

"Regina."

He hummed, glancing over at her with knitted brows.

"My name is Regina."

* * *

 **A/N:** I'm a slut for reviews, I'll leave it at that.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** I know it'd taken my ages to update this but I just haven't been feeling it lately. Writer's block, man, it's shit. Anyhow, I managed to whip up this chapter and finish it after a bit of a struggle. Enjoy. And as always, please excuse my mistakes, thank you.

 **Disclaimer:** Don't own anything, unfortunately, just my cringy mistakes.

* * *

She'd done this for years. She scammed countless men for a living and made a fortunate out of their money, she was a professional in that area and yet, she was, somehow, caught by an amateur bounty hunter…or whatever he preferred to call himself. She didn't like him. Infact, she couldn't even stand him or his charming, boyish smile and dimples, his dreamy, ocean blue eyes, knee-buckling accent, strong arms, masculine figure…God. She hated him. But if she goes through this one thing he asked from her, spend some time with his mother, put on an act as she'd done so effortlessly many times before, he'd let her go. He promised her — not that she trusted him, but she went with the flow anyways. Anything to get her out of the dreadful situation she was in.

"Are we there yet?" Regina glowered, not missing the way his eyes rolled at her question. "Do that again and I'll poke them out for you."

"Can you stop being so aggressive for once?" Robin exclaimed. "And Jesus, no, we're not _there yet_. Asking every two minutes won't change my answer, either. You'll know we've arrived when the bloody car stops moving."

She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and shifting back into her seat again. Did she mention that she absolutely hated him?

They'd been on the road for far too long, and his old, beaten up Mercedes wasn't at all comfortable. Granted, she was used to large and luxurious cars, but one would think after all the gloating about making triple the amount an average policeman would make, he'd buy himself a decent car rather than keep this junk she was in. Fortunately, though, they made it to West Milford, New Jersey half an hour later and pulled up in front of his mother's beige, two-story, suburban house.

The place was lovely, she'd give it that. It looked like something out of an all-American movie; spacious, neighborhood full of children playing around together, men mowing their well-watered lawns, a handful of people jogging by, some casually greeting each other from across the street — she wouldn't be surprised if every one of them knew the other, but it wasn't her thing. This place wasn't something she'd enjoy. It was too…dull. Unlike the cities she'd been to, it was quiet, there were no shops around, no five-star restaurants, no malls nearby she could spend most of her time at, only nature. There were plenty of lakes around to visit and parks, none of which she enjoyed, and local grocery stores and diners, but nothing more, nothing _interesting_. Two days, though. Just two days and she'd be gone, out of this place, out of this bastard's life, too.

"Where do you think you're doing?" Regina quirked up a brow when Robin walked ahead of her toward the house, only stopping at her question to look back at her with knitted brows and a frown. She gestured over at her bags in the backseat. "They won't carry themselves in. Now, be the good _husband_ I know you'll never be, dear, and get them for me," she smiled ever so sweetly and readjusted her sunglasses back on, gracefully walking past him and toward the house, a smirk tugging at her red lips at the curses he was muttering under her breath. Good, it was payback for almost breaking her nose.

"Two days, I'm not doing this for more than _two_ days," she reminded, shifting her weight awkwardly from one heel-cladded foot to the other as they waited for his mother to answer the door. He knocked a couple of times and rang the bell, and though it'd been less than a minute, it felt like they've been standing in the cold for five minutes and counting.

"Two days but you better be on your best behavior," he hissed.

" _Excuse me_?" she spat, emphasizing each word, her narrowed eyes fixed in his direction.

"I— it's— that's not how I meant for it to sound," he quickly addressed through stutters. "I meant just…be nice to her. Don't purposely try to hurt her to get to me. I know, I'm an asshole, and I know you can't stand me and guess what? The feeling's mutual, but don't drag my mother into this, she's an old lady." He rubbed his hands over his face and sighed, "And she's excited to meet you."

"You mean she's excited to meet your nonexistent wife?" she countered, brows raising to her hairline. "You do realize I'm not the one who's gonna hurt her, but you are, right? Can you imagine how devastated she'd be when she realizes she ain't getting no grandkid out of me, and that her precious baby boy was lying to her all along?" she baby-talked to him, sticking her bottom lip out in a pout.

"Yeah, well, that's not going to happen. Nice of you to care—"

"I don't care."

" _Either way_ ," he said. "She's not going to find out, you and I will ensure that. When all this is over, I'll just tell her we got into some sort of a big fight that led to a divorce."

"And you think she'd buy that?" she scoffed.

But before Robin could answer, the door swung open and an old, gray-haired lady greeted them with a beaming face.

"Robbie!" she cried out in delight, reaching out and tugging them both by the hand in a tight hug, then pulled away and squished Regina's face in-between her hands. "My God, Robbie, you weren't lying when you said she was stunning. She's indeed pretty."

"Mrs. Locksley, my…makeup," Regina managed out, her lips puckered at the force the old lady applied to her face, squeezing and pinching her cheeks as though she was a little child.

"Mom," Robin tried to no avail, she didn't appear to be wanting to let go of her _daughter-in-law_ anytime soon.

* * *

Susan, Regina learned the old lady was called, was nice. A little too nice, perhaps. She was doting on her, offering her food every few minutes and asking if she was alright, if she was comfortable, if she needed a softer cushion behind her back or a warm cup of tea to keep her all nice and toasty in this weather. She was fine, but Susan wouldn't take no for an answer. So far, she had two shortbread cookies and was nursing her second cup of tea, and the bastard was snickering at her misery beside her.

"Eat up, darling," Susan urged, pushing the cookie platter in front of her. Great, another cookie, or two. She'd walk out of here, alright, but she'd definitely walk out weighing ten pounds more. "Haven't my son been taking good care of you? You're all skin and bones," she noted with a frown.

Regina looked up at her capturer and smiled some around the rim of her mug, watching his eyes widen slightly in a warning. She ignored it, looked over at her _mother-in-law_ and frowned, shaking her head. "He hasn't," she lied, setting her tea down on the table. "Infact, we've just gotten into a bit of a fight a few days ago."

Susan gasped, "Oh no."

"Oh yes," Regina sighed, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. "He…he forgot my birthday, didn't even attempt to make it up to me."

"That's a lie!" Robin retaliated, earning himself a sharp _hush!_ and a swat on the bicep from his mother. He winced, "But she's lying."

"I did not raise you to grow up and accuse your own wife of being a liar, boy. Behave yourself."

"But—"

"Uh-uh."

"But mom—"

"That's quite enough, Robin," Susan chided, turning around to look at him with disappointment written all over her face, completely missing the sly grin that spread over Regina's. "I expected better from you. It's one thing to forget about her birthday, but to ignore it as if it isn't important?" she clicked her tongue in disapproval and heaved out a breath. "No wonder the poor thing seems upset, refusing everything I offer her and speaking very little."

Regina quickly schooled her features into a pokerface as Susan looked back at her, reaching over and pressing her head to her chest with force for comfort. It did the exact opposite, though. It was rather…weird. Very, very awkward, and Robin seemed to be getting the kick out of her discomfort, again. He was just barely managing to contain his laughter by covering his mouth and nodding to whatever else his mother said.

"Which is why," Susan continued, "you should take her out for dinner after you leave. Go on a little shopping spree or something, do what makes her happy."

"Fine," Robin huffed.

The remainder of the day dragged by awfully slow. But, it wasn't half as bad as Regina expected it to be. Sure, there were times where she wanted nothing more than to bolt right out and never look back, times such as when Susan decided to invite over her elderly friends and show her off to them. She was used to being showed off by her dates to a group of young men and women, not _The Golden Girls_ bunch. It was embarrassing, still, she let them have their moment and listened to them gush over _Robbie's wife_.

Then came dinner, it was steak pie and mashed potatoes with a side of peas, something she found odd but, surprisingly, delicious. She didn't eat much of it, though, not when she knew the crust more than likely gained its flaky exterior from all the butter that was mixed into it, not to mention, the mash probably had a heaping amount of it mixed in, too. She ate healthy; granola bars and egg white omelets for breakfast, salads for lunch, and anything light for dinner, sometimes soups, sometimes a bowl of fruits with a yogurt on the side, sometimes a whole-wheat, low-fat grilled cheese or grilled fish or chicken breasts with some greens. This, however, everything Susan served up was too much.

"Dinner was great, Susan—"

"But you barely touched your food," the old lady pointed out. "Did you not like it?"

"Oh no, no it was wonderful," Regina quickly assured, offering her a polite smile. "I just don't eat much anyways. And all that tea and cookies you gave me earlier, that filled me up."

"Oh," Susan whispered, sounding somewhat disappointed, but she smiled and nodded. "Very well, as long as you're full."

"Extremely full, another bite and I might as well burst," Regina chuckled, getting up and excusing herself from the table. She was nice, not because Robin asked her to be, but because that's how she was. She was nice because, well, she was a nice person when she didn't have to pretend to be someone she wasn't, and whilst she was pretending to be _Trina_ , at the same time, it didn't feel like she was putting up an act, for once. It felt natural, nothing out of the norm. "Which room is mine, by the way? I think I'll call it the night."

"Robbie," Susan nudged her son and he hummed with a mouthful, his fork and knife clutched into both his hands. He'd been chowing down his dinner like there was no tomorrow, it was funny. "Get up, show Trina the bedroom you two will be sleeping in."

"Hold on," Regina laughed nervously. "What do you by the bedroom _us_ two will be sleeping in? I'm not sleeping with him." _Oh, wait_. Shit. She almost blew this whole thing off by slipping out of character. She gulped and cleared her throat, waving her hand over at the wild-eyed Robin. "I just— I mean— I'm still mad at him for forgetting my birthday."

Robin let go of the breath he was holding and Susan chuckled, seeming just as relieved for whatever reason. "Oh, darling. I know my son, he'll definitely make it up to you," she promised. "Go on now, both of you. I'm sure the trip down here was tiring, you both need your rest."

* * *

"Is she always this cheerful?" Regina asked, furrowing her brows and Robin nodded. "That's…unsettling. How can someone be that happy all the time? I don't think I've seen her without a smile yet."

Robin shrugged. "Wish I knew. That's how she'd always been, so overly positive."

"Yeah. And what do you think you're doing?" she frowned, folding her arms over her chest as he slipped right under the quilt, taking up half, if not most, of the bed. "I meant it, I'm not sleeping next to you."

"Then feel free to take over the floor."

"Are you serious?"

"Dead serious."

She scoffed, "What a gentleman."

"Prince Charming's got nothing on me," he replied, sending a wink her way.

God, she could just wrap her hands around his neck right now and strangle him, but one more day, just _one_ more day and he'd be out of her life.

"Scooch over, asshole," she grumbled, pulling the covers back and flopping down on the other side of the bed beside him. She laid and scooted away from the edge a bit, immediately huffing when her back came in contact with his front. She could feel him smiling behind her, one of his boyish, cheeky smiles. "I said _move_ ," she repeated, but he made no effort into doing so, not even flinching. That was it. That was the last straw. She turned around to face him and pressed both feet into his torso, and with all the strength she had in her, she shoved him off the bed with a loud thud, followed by a groan from him.

"Bitch."

"Serves you right for being a dick."

"Four hundred grand isn't enough for putting up with your ass."

"Should've moved when I asked you to," she shrugged, beaming down at him from over the bed. "Sleep well, _dear_. I'm sure the floor is grand."

* * *

 **A/N:** Don't forget to review, thanks!


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